Open Season
by Jill2
Summary: Buffy is living the good life in Rome. But is she really? BA heavy even though ... well, you should read it yourself. Not my usual kind of story, I guess.
1. Chapter 1

_Okay, boys and girls, this is me. Yeah, and I'm no imagination. Can you believe it? I'm hardly able to believe it that the Buffy/Angel muse hit me. It was like a shock, truly. So here I am and a new story the muse is whispering in my ear. And yes, there are stories unfinished, but I can't force them. So this is what I can offer. _

_Just read with an open mind and tell me if it sucks terribly. _

**FIC: Open Season (1?)**

Author: Jill

Disclaimer: Don't own them. Blah, blah, blah.

Rating: R for now

Spoilers: Complete BtVS and Angel canon is fair game.

Summary: I'm bad with those. So read at your own risk.

Dedication: To whatever Gods let my writing muse sing again.

Buffy slammed the receiver down and Spike winced at the drumming in his ears. "Problem, slayer?" he asked, knowing that she hated when he addressed her that way. Sure enough she sent him a nasty glare.

"Shut up. Instead of listening to stuff that's none of your business you'd rather do what you're paid for."

"Underpaid for," he grumbled and turned back to the translation he was trying to decipher, but kept watching her from the corner of his eye.

"Cry me a river," Buffy snapped and stood, still next to the phone, glaring at it as if it was an offensive object. "Dammit," she exclaimed before she sighed loudly and ran a restless hand through her once again long hair.

"Something wrong in here?" Giles had stuck his head through the door, squinting against the bright sun streaming inside the room through the picture windows.

"No." Buffy sighed again, then shook her head. "Just," she gestured with her hands. "Faith and two of the other slayers were almost killed last night by a bunch of very strong demons. Seems the situation is Cleveland is heating up." She blew out a long breath. "Just what I need."

Giles stepped into the room and Spike saw the grave expression on his face. Not a good sign. "I'm sure Faith can handle the Cleveland."

Buffy whirled around, her glare now directed at her watcher. "Yeah, because she did such a kick-ass job before."

"That's unfair, Buffy, and you know it," Giles chided gently. "Faith came straight out of prison last time, she was not well trained and didn't have a lot of field-time anyway."

"Yeah, sure, find excuses for her," Buffy snapped.

"I am not finding excuses for her." Giles voice was calm, but Spike thought he detected a hint of annoyance. No surprise there. Buffy's recent attitude was grating on everyone's nerves, most of all his own. Or maybe he had just expected too much. But even though his rational self insisted that it was to be expected, the fool in him, and admittedly it was his stronger part, had hoped she would jump into his arms all those months ago when he'd suddenly appeared in her office, all shiny and new, not to forget with a heartbeat. But instead of gleaming with joy, her eyes had been cool and so far nothing had changed.

Spike had a nagging feeling that he knew exactly what it was about even though he tried not to let his thoughts wander that path. There was nothing he could do to help her, as much as it hurt him to admit it.

"Buffy-" Giles started, but she interrupted him by shaking her head.

"Whatever, Giles." She grabbed her purse from the surface as her otherwise empty desk. "I'm off. See you soon, I guess." With that she left the room, not waiting for any good-byes.

Spike watched the empty doorway for a moment, then turned his gaze to Giles who was staring at the space Buffy had just vacated. On his face anger and sadness were fighting for dominance. "She doesn't even care," he murmured, more to himself, but Spike heard it nevertheless. He might not have vampire hearing anymore, but he was close enough to understand it anyway.

"She cares too much," he said quietly. "It's her way to keep herself from hurting."

Giles snapped out of his focus and turned on the former vampire. "Well, if that's her goal, she isn't doing a very good job. But it can't go on like this. A lot of lives depend on her. Just because she isn't the only slayer anymore, she can't get that sloppy about her job."

Something in Spike snapped. "God, how stupid can you be?"

Giles glared. "I beg your pardon?"

"How long have you been her watcher? Do you know her at all? She distances herself from everything to keep herself from hurting."

"And what made you the expert all of a sudden?"

"For one, I'm a little older than you are, even though nobody would guess." He grinned smugly at the watcher's annoyance. He wasn't a vampire anymore, but baiting a watcher still gave him a happy. "Also, I did watch my share of telly in my day. You pick up a thing or two. The Slayer has denial written all over herself."

Giles stared at him for a moment, then sighed. "I know her life wasn't a walk in the park. But it's gotten a lot easier thanks to Willow and her spell. She isn't the only Slayer anymore, she can finally have a life aside from her calling. But instead she is changing into someone who seems to be less Buffy every day."

Spike rolled his eyes at the stupidity of humans. Really, in the big scheme of things, vampires were so much more evolved when it came to understanding what drove a person. Okay, they were evil down to the very bottom, but at least they never lied to themselves. There were times, and Spike would never admit that to anyone aloud, he missed not being a vampire anymore.

"And when did it start?" he asked.

"Excuse me?"

Again, Spike rolled his eyes. Dumb. Humans were just bloody dumb. It was a disgrace, he was one of them now. "When. Did. It. Start? That clear enough for you?"

Giles glared darkly. "I assure you, I'm thoroughly capable to understand English. As a matter of fact, I spent quite some years studying our wonderful language-"

"Blah, blah, blah," Spike interrupted, not caring that the watcher's glare darkened even more. "You speak the language, sure, but it's not about the language, it's about listening."

For a moment Giles looked at the former vampire. Spike did his best not to squirm under that gaze, managing to keep his cool thanks to his long life as a vampire. Then something seemed to fall over the watcher's eyes, like a veil, and he abruptly turned away. "If your expertise is needed," Giles said stiffly, "I will let you know. Otherwise I'd rather have you staying out of my business."

Dismissed. Once again, he had been dismissed. Spike sighed and turned back to his translation, not bothering to watch Giles leave the room. For a moment the former vampire stared at his hands. They were still very pale, had barely tanned even though he'd been living in Rome for the better part of eight months. But he wasn't getting out much.

He was still trying to adjust. After hundred odd years as a vampire, it was a bitch waking up in a hospital with a heartbeat and a broken body, next to a stinking homeless person. So much for dying a hero. He'd done it twice and Spike had come to the conclusion that it thoroughly sucked. Being an evil vampire was a piece of cake compared to the sodding mess currently called the life of William the Bloody.

"Hey, Spike."

"Done with classes for today?" He smiled at Dawn, looking all grown up in her flowery dress, held by thin white straps, a stark contrast to her tanned skin. She wore her hair a little shorter these days, and currently in a ponytail which made her look at least five years older.

"For the week," she replied, plopping unceremoniously on his desk, sucking on a red lollipop. "How about you? Wanna get out some?"

He sighed, shaking his head, "Still have to get this done until tonight. Promised Red to send her an e-mail tonight." He rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache starting right between his eyes.

The red lollipop disappeared in her mouth and she sucked noisily. "Can't you have a break, for just an hour or so?" she whined around it. "We barely have time to talk."

He glanced at the clock. He really shouldn't, but it was too tempting. Not a lot of the people in this building were his friends. Hell, none of them were. The one friend he'd counted on was trying her best to forget he was even there. "Kay then, let's get out of here for a while."

She grinned happily, jumped from his desk. "Great. You want me to push?"

"No." Spike shook his head. "I need the exercise". He grinned at her, "Doctor's orders."

"Kay," she said easily, and skipped ahead, while he slowly wheeled after her, the rubber wheels of his chair making squeaky sounds on the floor.

"This is nice."

Willow turned her head and grinned while her girlfriend tried to squeeze herself into a tight pair of jeans. She quirked her brow. "Nice?"

"Y-yeah," Kennedy groaned, letting herself fall back on the bed to close the buttons. "Remind me the next time some cake winks at me to keep away from it. God, these are tight."

"I agree," Willow said, and admired Kennedy's rear as she got up and looked at herself in the mirror. "But they're cool."

"Uh-huh. Also they were on sale. Just don't make me sit in them."

Willow grinned again and leaned back against the headboard of the queen size bed in their hotel room in Brasilia. "So, what did you think of?"

Kennedy frowned. "Think of?"

"You said 'this is nice'."

"Oh, that. I was talking about civilization. You know, a bed, a bathroom, the kind of stuff that makes you feel like a girl again. A bit of makeup."

"Tight jeans", Willow volunteered.

"Yep." Kennedy took a last critical look at herself in the mirror, then turned to her girlfriend. "How do you feel about going home?"

Willow's gut clenched in reaction. But for Kennedy's sake she tried a smile. "Looking forward to it."

"Liar."

The redhead frowned. "You know me too well. You think I'm predictable?"

"Predictable can be good."

For a moment Willow was transported back to Sunnydale high school when her evil self had visited this world for a night. She had grown older, but obviously nothing had changed much. Well, if you could forget about her going all evil and trying to destroy the world, but she was definitely not going there.

"So I was once told," the witch grumbled. She sighed, "I'm looking forward to see Xander. And Dawnie. But I-"

"You don't know about meeting Buffy," Kennedy finished for her. "And Spike, don't forget that little problem."

"Yeah." Spike was a big problem, too. But as much as Willow hated to admit it, the idea of seeing Buffy made her feel uncomfortable. They hadn't seen each other very often during the past two years, ever since they had closed the hellmouth in Sunnydale for good. And each time it had been a group meeting, usually talking about business, they'd never found the time to talk in private for more than five minutes. Sure, they had talked on the phone but even those calls had become less frequent, and Buffy had been very distant, steering their conversation to business each time Willow had tried to ask something personal.

To say it made Willow uncomfortable was a vast understatement. She was dreading their meeting with Buffy, not sure what to expect. Giles wasn't happy with her, and from the little Dawn offered Buffy's life was far from what they all had hoped it would be.

"It was strange seeing him in a wheelchair." Kennedy was rummaging through her bag, not looking at her girlfriend. "I mean, he's always been strong, almost as strong as Buffy, and all of a sudden…" She trailed off, not finishing the sentence but they both knew what she meant.

"Yeah."

"I was surprised he kept the name. I mean, now that he is human again. I wouldn't want a name connected to killing peop-" She broke off abruptly, and her gaze snapped to Willow, her face full of regret. "Willow, I didn't mean-"

"No, that's okay," the redhead said quickly. "I know what you meant. And I agree. It's strange."

"It's almost as if he is proud of his past."

"Or maybe he just mourns what it stood for," Willow said thoughtfully. "He was strong, healthy. And Buffy was with him."

Kenny made a noncommittal sound, then disappeared in the bathroom for a moment. Willow sighed again and for a moment stared at the phone beside the bed. After short consideration she picked it up and dialled the familiar number.

"Buffy, it can't go on like this. You can't go on like this."

She gave him a long, and so Giles hated to admit, cold look. "And why is that?"

He sighed, got up and walked over to the window that overlooked the Roman Forum. It was a beautiful view at least if you could ignore the hordes of tourists in their disgusting colourful outfits, but Giles couldn't bring himself to appreciate it that very moment. His mind was with Buffy, or rather Buffy's life which for his taste left a lot to be desired.

"Excuse me," he said slowly, "that I find your current lifestyle a little disturbing." He didn't need to look at her to know she was rolling her eyes.

"Are you talking about the way I'm taking care of Dawn, of her education, that she is excelling in all her classes?" Her voice was snippy and Giles hated to hear it. More than everything he hated for what it stood.

"I admire what you are doing for Dawn," he told her, keeping his voice even. "You have done your best to give her a normal life. You are taking care of her needs and God knows you love her." He paused, then plunged ahead, knowing that this would probably end in another fight. "But what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Don't play bloody dumb." Giles kept his gaze firmly on the tourists. He just couldn't bring himself to look at her these days. It had nothing to do with the flimsy outfit she wore or the kind of makeup that would do Faith proud. It was all about her eyes. "You know what I'm talking about."

"You really need a life, Giles." He heard her move behind him, then the sound of liquid being splashed into a glass. "You should find yourself a girlfriend and enjoy time. You earned it."

"You mean like you?"

Finally he turned around and used his best poker face not to let her see how disgusted and saddened he was at the sight of Buffy drinking whiskey at ten o'clock in the morning. He saw her shrug, then take a long sip from her glass. "So what if I'm enjoying life a little? I'm young, and even though I shouldn't be I'm still alive. I gave this world all my youth and now it's Buffy-time for a change."

He stared at her, wondering when she'd become so bitter. Had it happened after she'd come back from the dead? Or before? Maybe later? He felt bad for missing it, but it didn't change facts. "You are still a slayer, Buffy."

She stared right back and slowly emptied her glass, then set it down. "A. The word is A. Yes, I'm a slayer, and I'm still slaying." She paused and seemed to consider her words. "Well, sometimes," she conceded, "if something should occur. But finally I'm not the Chosen one anymore. There are lots of slayers and we did a good job in training them."

"Yes we did," he agreed. "And I would never belittle what you did for the world. God knows I was there for most of it." He viciously squelched the guilty little voice that told him he had deserted her when she had needed him most. "And I'm the last to tell you that you can't have fun. But," he talked right over her attempt to interrupt him, "this isn't about fun. You are on a path to self-destruction, Buffy, and I'm here to tell you that it has to end now."

She laughed and once again did what he least expected of her, even though he should have known. It wasn't a mocking laugh, but a full belly one. He should have been glad to hear it, instead it made his gut clench.

"Self-destruction?" she managed after she had calmed enough to talk again. "That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. And that from the guy who summoned Eygon just to pass time."

Giles took a deep breath and tried not to let the remark hurt him. He failed miserably. "And I paid the price. Maybe it's because of it that I understand better than anyone what you're going through."

She poured herself another glass of whiskey and emptied it in one go, then slammed it down on the counter of her kitchenette. "You have no idea what I'm going through. My life was taken from me," she hissed. "I was barely fifteen years old when a stuffy British guy told me I had a sacred duty, that I had to sacrifice for the greater good."

"Buffy-"

She cut him off with a slashing motion of her hand. "And sacrifice I did. My parents thought their daughter was a delinquent, I had to kill the one person I loved more than anything in my life, more than-" her voice wavered, but she pulled herself together in an instant. "Anyway, I watched my lover leave me, and not just once if I may add. I buried my mom. I got a sister that was never born. And when I finally, finally- "again her voice wavered, and again she took a deep breath and was calm once more, "found peace, my so called friends couldn't leave me be. So, Giles, tell me again how wonderful my life has been so far."

It was true. They both knew. But the tragic irony was that now she finally had a chance for a normal life, or what could be normal for a slayer, she was throwing it away.

"I know all this, Buffy." He took a step closer to her, but she backed away. "I know that your life has been hard. Mine wasn't a picnic either. But you are not living your life now, you are throwing it away."

"Because I have a drink once or twice?" Her voice sounded so incredulous, so baffled that for a moment Giles felt the insane need to laugh. He knew now why he never wanted to have kids of his own. But then Buffy had come into his life and things had changed.

"Not just once or twice. Dawn was shocked at the amount of alcohol you're consuming-"

"So Dawn told you, huh?" She was watching him through narrowed eyes. "What, she comes home for a weekend and all of a sudden she knows what makes Buffy tick?"

"No, but she came home to find her sister passed out drunk on her bed, a naked guy beside her. And when said sister woke up in the morning, she could neither remember the drinking nor the guy she had spent the night with." Yes, he was angry now, and he welcomed it. It was much better than tiptoeing around a subject that needed to be dealt with. He had never wanted to be a father, but Buffy's father had failed miserably and it was up to Giles to set her straight.

"And from what I hear, it wasn't just that one time," he added. "What is it, Buffy? What happened? What made you think that living a normal life consists of sex, drugs and booze?"

"Sex, drugs and booze?" she mimicked, making a grand show of rolling her eyes. "Careful Giles, your roots are showing. Besides, what concern of yours is this? I'm of age, I'm not in high school anymore, so I can do what I damn well want."

"Of course you can. But there are people caring for you, people afraid you might drift into a direction you'll find no way out of." He deliberately softened his voice and made eye contact, "We love you, Buffy."

For a moment she held his gaze, then abruptly turned away and wrapped her arms around herself.

Giles took a step closer, but only one. Buffy looked so fragile, she might break at the slightest touch. "I know your life hasn't been a piece of cake. And I admit that at times it 'sucked beyond belief' but because of all you've been through you should know that it's precious."

She didn't respond, just stood there, untouchable in her obvious pain and Giles wished Joyce was here. She had not been perfect, far beyond it, but she would have known what to do now, how to help where Giles felt lost.

He sighed and decided that changing the subject might be in order. He'd given Buffy enough to chew on. "I talked to Willow the other day. She and Kennedy are thinking about coming to Rome for a short vacation. According to them the situation in South America is finally under control."

Giles fervently hoped Willow was right. Shortly after the hellmouth in Sunnydale had been closed news of a demonic outpour in the rainforest of Brazil had given cause for concern, and Willow and the new called Slayer had been sent to take care of it. Giles was looking forward to seeing them again. He also hoped it would do Buffy good to see her best friend.

"Oh, and Xander will be stopping by in a few days. I'm not sure what to think of it but he said something about bringing a companion." What Xander had actually said was that he'd 'met this hot chick in Vienna who wanted to see Rome', but Giles chose not to mention that.

For a moment it seemed as if Buffy would stay silent, and Giles wondered how long he could keep a one-sided conversation when at last, she opened her mouth. "I know everything, Giles." Her voice was low, controlled, and very cold.

He frowned. "Everything? What are you talking about?"

"That night, when I had dinner at your house with Dawn, you and my little sister went to study some ancient text. That's when I found it."

Despite the feeling that something wasn't right, Giles had no idea what she meant. "Would you care to elaborate?"

Buffy's head came up, her eyes unreadable. "Wesley's diaries."

"What about-" And then it hit him. "His diaries?"

"Yes. The ones he left to you, am I correct? He did leave them to you?"

Giles could only nod, feeling numb all over. She had read the diaries. Oh dear God. "Buffy-"

"No. Don't. I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear you telling me that it's going to be okay, and that time heals all wounds because it doesn't. There are wounds nothing can heal."

He knew all about wounds. He had had his fair share in his life. "I would never say something so trite, Buffy. And I realize that losing-"

"Don't." Her voice was sharp like a knife. "Don't say his name. Ever. And don't even try to deny that a part of you was glad when it happened."

Instant denial rose in Giles, followed by righteous indignation. Then, reality settled in. "You are right. A part of me was glad. I was raised a watcher, Buffy. You were talking about wounds before. I realize it was the demon who did it, but he still wore the man's face when he inflicted one of the deepest wounds."

Buffy inhaled sharply. "I know that, I was there. And I even understand. But you should understand that I can't feel that way and that's the reason we will never agree about this."

He took a deep breath and forced his voice to soften. "He died a hero, Buffy. It's what he wanted. He died fighting. Doesn't that mean anything?"

"Mean anything?" she echoed hollowly.

"Is that why you avoid Spike like the plague?" Giles asked.

Buffy stared at him for a moment, then turned away. With his back to him, her voice sounded low, "Giles, go."

"Buffy-"

"Go." It was no request but an order. Giles wanted to say something wise, something that would help her, would make her feel better about what had happened. But there was nothing he could offer. Angel was dead. And nothing he would say could change that.

to be continued …

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	2. Chapter 2

Open Season (2/10ish) 

by Jill

Disclaimer and details see part 1

Giles was not happy. Soon he would be surrounded by people who were important to him, who were playing a more or less major role in his life but he still wasn't happy. Actually, if he was completely honest with himself, he was downright pissed. And a pissed off Giles was a cranky Giles.

"Stop giving me these looks."

Giles sighed, trying not to show his annoyance. "I am not giving you any looks."

"Sure you are," Spike grumbled. "Stupid watcher," he muttered on an afterthought. And if he was even more honest with himself, Giles wished Spike were still a vampire so he could stake him on the spot. He was human now, but sometimes even more annoying than before.

"Stop bickering, you two English pansies, you."

They both whirled around, with Spike sitting in a wheelchair quite an achievement, only to see Xander Harris grinning at them.

"Who are you calling a pansy, you stupid poof?" Spike said, but his voice sounded almost happy.

"Hello, Xander," Giles greeted and got up, shaking the younger man's hand. "It's good to see you."

"You too," Xander replied, grinning from ear to ear. He let his grin slip a little, but just a little, and turned his head to Spike. "You too."

"In your dreams," Spike grumbled, but he grinned as well, and Giles decided not to feel freaked-out by the strange kind of bonding those two had gone through ever since Spike had come back with a heartbeat. Maybe it was his upbringing as a watcher that kept him from understanding male bonding rituals, but as he watched Xander and Spike grin at each other stupidly, then high five each other, he was sure he could live without ever knowing.

Before he could further contemplate the matter, a joyful cry of "Xander" came from the kitchen and a second later a red haired whirlwind catapulted herself into the young man's arms.

"You're here," Willow said, hugging her best friend fiercely. "You're here," she repeated, starting to cry.

"And so are you." Xander pushed her back a little so he could look at her, noticing her slightly shorter hair, and a wrinkle next to her left eye he hadn't seen before. In a strange way it made him sad, but happy at the same time. She was growing older, but she also seemed happy.

"Yeah," she replied, "so are we." She turned her head to indicate Kennedy who was standing in the kitchen doorway of Giles' Rome apartment, wearing the tightest pair of jeans Xander had ever seen, bar Faith, but he was so not going there – ever.

He and Kennedy greeted each other, then she disappeared again only to come back with two hands full of silverware. "Can anyone give me a hand?" she asked and Willow went to help. Xander could see that apart from that the table was already set. He watched Kennedy bend over and knew that at least part of Willow's happiness was due to her. And she also had a nice ass.

Damn, he was not going to oogle Willow's girlfriend's ass.

"We thought you were bringing a date" Giles remarked while he walked over to a little round antique table to open the red wine. The white wine was already cooling in the freezer. And because he knew that not all of them had such refined taste, he had also gotten some beer.

Xander shrugged. "Lost her on the way over."

Willow looked up from her task and raised a brow. "Lost her? You mean in a non-magical, totally normal way, I hope."

"Yup," Xander said lightly. "Bailed on me in Verona."

"You don't seem to take it the hard way," Giles remarked drily, and ignored the snort coming from Spike's direction.

Xander shrugged yet again. "What can I say. She met some Antonio or Sergio or so and took off. Oh well. Guys, it's not as if it was serious. We just kind of hang out together." And really, it was all they had done together, apart from the hot monkey sex, but it had been very impersonal. It had been fun as long as it lasted but it was over now, so no need to cry over. He just wasn't ready for anything close to a steady relationship. Not yet. He sometimes wondered if he would ever be.

"With a little sex thrown in for the good mood," Spike said.

"That too. So, anyway, here I am, single and desireable-"

"Which only shows that tastes vary."

"- and up for action," Xander finished, ignoring Spike's comment. "There is action around here, right? Vampires to slay, monsters to stop." And please, let's not talk about Xander's pathetic love-life.

"Ah," Kennedy raised her hand, "so not wanting to spoil your mood here, but I'd rather go without vampires for a while. Or monsters of any kind."

"She's slain at least a hundred these past months. Brasil was totally crazy," Willow explained and smiled at her girlfriend proudly.

"Yes, let's be glad things finally calmed down in South America."

"By the way," Willow piped up again, "we met Riley and Sam. And after a lot of glowering for Buffy's sake, we had a really good time together. They were in Brasilia too." She paused before announcing, "I think Sam's pregnant."

"So Iowa corn-bred boy finally got himself a little mommy for his little corn-bred babies. If it wasn't so pathetic I'd cry."

"Spike, shut up," Giles said, but without really meaning it. Part of him still felt sour at the way Riley had left Buffy, and as far as he was concerned Spike could insult the commando as much as he wanted.

"Don't mind me," the former vampire grumbled. "But if you ask me-"

"Nobody does," Xander threw in.

"- she is far better off without the boring bugger. He was a liability for her, nothing more. Apart from being a total jack-ass, of course."

"That's so not true," Willow insisted. "He was sweet and they were good together…" she trailed off when she saw the others sans Kennedy staring at her. "What? I wanted to be positive. Positive is good."

"Yes, it is," Kennedy assured her, blowing a kiss to her cheek. "But I have to agree with Willow-"

"Surprise, surprise."

She gave Xander a glare then continued her sentence, "- Riley is nice. And Sam is too. We had some great days together."

"And we wanted to tell you now, before Buffy is here," Willow said. "No need to throw the Riley and Sam happiness in her face."

"I agree," Giles said sadly. "It's bad enough as it is."

"But you don't mean bad-bad, right," Willow looked at him hopefully.

"Unfortunately I do." Giles sighed and turned back to the wine to test its temperature. Everything to keep himself busy. Talking to Buffy had left him raw. She was hurting badly and there was nothing he could do to take the pain away. God, he was such a loser when it came to taking care of people he loved.

"That bad, huh?" Xander's expression was grave. "Any idea how to lighten things up a bit?"

Half an hour later they were all sitting around the table and Kennedy was thinking about chewing her nails. She knew all these people, although, truth to be told it was only Willow she was really close to. Sure, Giles, Xander and Spike had helped to save the world, but Giles had always been Buffy's watcher and Xander was Buffy's and Willow's best friend, and Spike. Well, Spike still gave her the wiggins, heartbeat or no.

"So, where is she?" Xander asked, leaning his chin on his hand. He had lost a few pounds which suited him. Not that Kennedy was attracted to Xander. She hadn't been attracted to a boy in, well, ever to be honest, if you forgot about that one time with Harry Petterson in junior highschool, and she was so forgetting about it. It was simply too embarrassing.

"Yeah, where is the Slayer?"

"Hey, I'm a slayer too," Kennedy bristled automatically. Man, Spike always got her hackles up.

"Yeah, yeah, tell that to yourself. But if you ask me, Buffy is still the Slayer." Spike gave her a bored look, and Kennedy wondered if maybe he'd rather be a vampire again. There was this expression in his gaze sometimes …

"You said Dawn was bringing her, right?" Willow was wired. Kennedy had no problem to see how nervous her girlfriend was. She wished she could do something to lighten Willow's spirits but wasn't sure what would help right now.

"Yes, she said she'd pick her up on her way. Now that she has her driver's licence, she is eager to use her car whenever possible." Giles looked positively green at the thought and everyone snickered. It wasn't a secret that the watcher's trust in Dawn's driving skills was limited. "I just hope this night will help Buffy to find a sense of self again."

"Sense of self." Spike snorted, "Piece of crap. But nobody is listening to me around here."

"Might be because you were maiming and killing for a hundred years before some idiot up there decided you being human was a big cosmic joke," Giles snapped and got up, but only to start pacing the room.

"Hey. Cosmic joke?" Spike snapped right back. "You think sitting is this damned chair is a big joke? Let me tell you watcher-man, it's bloody annoying, not to say I'm feeling like crap all the time. So yeah, I might be human, but most of the time? I'd rather be dead."

Silence followed the short but passionate speech. Giles turned away and fumbled with the wine, while everyone else stared at their empty plates.

It was Xander who broke the general feeling of uneasiness. "Okay, we've established that Spike would rather be a vamp again. And on that happy note, can we go back to our original subject, which is Buffy and her not so happy way to enjoy her new won freedom?"

"Yes," Giles sat back down, his expression grave. "I'm very worried about her. I tried talking to her a few days ago and she refused point-blank to discuss the subject with me."

"What happened exactly?" Willow asked, her eyes huge. "I mean, I noticed she is kind of distant on the phone, only talking about business. We haven't spoken one private word in months. So I'm kind out of the loop here."

"According to Dawn," Giles said, and looked around the table. It made Kennedy uncomfortable, somehow she had the feeling she was intruding on something private, something she wasn't part of. "According to Dawn," the watcher started again, "Buffy seems to drink quite on a regular basis. Which is supported by me seeing her drink at ten o'clock in the morning. And she isn't too picky in her choice of men," he added, obviously very uncomfortable with that particular subject.

"Why don't you just say it," Xander said tiredly. "She is drunk a lot and behaves like a slut."

"A slut?" Willow's face was pale. "Just because, I mean, she is probably just unhappy and or … or enjoying-" She broke off when she saw everyone staring at her and visibly deflated. "Okay, maybe she is overdoing it a little."

"Nice choice of words," Spike commented.

"Does she know we will all be here tonight?" Xander wanted to know.

"I told her that I talked to you and that you'd be here sooner or later…" Giles trailed off.

"So, basically, what you're saying is that this will be some sort of surprise get together for her?" Willow seemed a little nervous at that. "You realise that surprises never really worked for her."

"Yeah, I just want to remind you of an arm in a box, or Giles turning into a demon." Xander grinned but nobody was joining him.

Kennedy watched Giles take his glasses off and rub them with a tissue he had pulled from his pocket. "I know that her life style isn't any of our business per se, but," he looked even more uncomfortable than before, "this isn't about Buffy having a private life, it's about Buffy hurting. Bloody hell, I feel completely useless," he ended putting his glasses back on with a jerky motion of his hand.

"I can relate." Willow looked sad and Kennedy put a comforting arm around her shoulders.

"You are doing great, sweetie," she assured her girlfriend. "You've always been a great friend to Buffy."

"I'm not so sure. I feel like I've been missing a vital turn." The redhead hid her face in her hands and mumbled, "I am a bad friend."

Once again silence settled around the table.

"What a depressing bunch you are," Spike said after a few minutes.

"Shut up, Spike," Giles snapped. "You did your fair share of damage where Buffy is concerned. You are the last who should lecture us."

"Wrong." Spike wheeled away from the table and towards the window where stared out into the night. "I'm the perfect guy. Because I know her a way none of you do. And I don't mean that way. Get your head out of the gutter, people. But the Slayer is deep, and there's a lot more to her than happy, blond Buffy."

"That's your deep insight?" Xander sounded incredulous. "Because, I have to tell you, got that one years ago."

But Spike didn't seem to listen to him. And Kennedy decided that the guy was definitely creepy. "She has a dark core. Like all the Slayers I've met in my time. I thought she'd managed to come to terms with her many layers but I think losing Angel ripped everything apart. And seeing me human … "

"Okay, needing back story here," Willow said.

"Same here," Xander agreed.

"Bugger." Giles got up and began pacing again.

"Oh, oh, this is bad, he is swearing." Willow and Xander exchanged an intimate look and Kennedy squelched the petty wave of jealousy she was feeling. They were long time friends. Had never been lovers, not all the way anyway, so there was nothing to be jealous of. But it was still hard watching them understand each other without words.

"Can you give us the back story, Giles?" Willow asked.

The watcher sighed and poured himself a glass of red wine. "It all started with Wesley's diaries."

"Wesley's diaries? Okay, anyone else wigged out by the thought of the stuffy English guy writing diaries?" Xander asked.

"He wasn't that stuff anymore in the end," Willow reminded him. "He actually looked ruggedly handsome when I met him again. So, what about those diaries?"

"As you all know, watchers have to keep diaries."

"But Wesley wasn't a real watcher anymore, right?" Kennedy already knew the answer, but somehow she felt as if she had to contribute to this conversation.

"He was fired by the council because Faith turned rogue. Shortly after he joined Angel's team in Los Angeles. But even though he wasn't part of the council anymore, he still kept his diaries. Probably because he was used to it. He had been trained to become a watcher from early age. Just like me."

"Does that mean you are still keeping a diary?"

Giles ignored Willow's question, took a sip of his wine and sighed again. "When Wesley died he left his diaries to me." He took another sip, then went on, "It took Buffy hard, it was to be expected, when Angel died. But she seemed to recover, slowly but steadily. Then, one night, she and Dawn came over to have dinner with me, and while Dawn and I were studying some ancient text, Buffy discovered the diaries."

"And?"

"About a year after Angel went to Los Angeles, he stole an ancient prophecy from the law firm he joined later. Wesley translated a part of it which was about a vampire with a soul. It said that after said vampire had fulfilled his destiny he would get his reward. He would turn human."

"Human?" Willow breathed. "You mean, human as in having a heartbeat and needing to …" She trailed off and Kennedy could watch as it hit her. Willow gasped, then paled, and her gaze darted to Spike, "Oh my God."

"Got it in one, witchy woman," the former vampire said, his skin colour matching hers.

"What?" Xander asked.

"She began to hope," Giles explained and Kennedy took Willow in her arms as the redhead silently started to cry. "She thought that maybe Angel had fulfilled his destiny. Then Spike turned up."

"With a heartbeat," Xander finished, equally pale now.

"Yes. And according to Dawn it was about that time that she started acting up." Giles put his glass down and rubbed his forehead.

"She lost hope." Willow's eyes were wide and luminous. "She gave up."

"Yes," Giles said gravely. "She lost hope."

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. Giles went to open it but before he could reach it, Dawn stormed inside, her face wet with tears. "Buffy," she panted, "Buffy is gone."

to be continued …


	3. Chapter 3

Open Season (3/10ish) 

by Jill

Disclaimer and details see part 1

"What?"

"What do you mean, gone?"

"Gone, in went out shopping, right?"

"Can a Slayer just leave?"

"Gone on a bender?"

The onslaught of questions only made Dawn cry harder. That again, made her wonder how big exactly human tear glands were. They had to be pretty big because she'd been crying non-stop ever since she'd found Buffy's letter. Which was a big joke in itself. It was more a piece of paper, ripped off from a book or something where Buffy had left two lines. She would remember those as long as she lived.

"Dawn?"

She snapped herself out of her musings and tried to focus on the questions in her friends' eyes. Giles came over to her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder, his face drawn with worry. "Can you tell us what happened?" he asked.

"Yes, because some of us here thought she was still smiley-happy Slayer," Spike muttered. From his expression he seemed to be the only one not surprised by what had happened.

"I didn't," Willow said, her eyes watery. "I knew she wasn't fine." She turned to her girlfriend. "I was a bad friend. I should have come home sooner."

"We were needed in Brazil." Kennedy touched the redhead's cheek. "There is no way you could have known. It doesn't mean you're a bad friend."

"Neither of us knew," Xander stated, looking grim.

Spike glared at him, "Speak for yourself."

"Alright, if everyone can bloody shut up for a moment," Giles cut in, "maybe Dawn could explain what actually happened."

"Sorry."

"We're quiet."

"Shutting up now."

Dawn gulped. She never liked being the centre of attention, but now she liked it even less. "I … uh … don't really know. She only left a short message."

"What did it say?" Giles asked gently.

"That she loves me but that she needs to leave." Actually, what Buffy had written was 'Dear Dawn. I can't be here anymore. I need to leave and have no idea when I'll be back. Giles will take care of you. I love you. Buffy.' "Oh, and that you'll take care of me," she added.

"That goes without saying," Giles assured her quickly. He sighed, pulled off his glasses and started rubbing his forehead. "Well, that leaves us in bloody oblivion." He looked back at Dawn, "Do you have any idea where she might have gone?"

Dawn shook her head, fighting a new wave of tears by furiously blinking. "No." It was the sad truth. Buffy was the only family member left. Yes, there was her father but he'd never given a damn what happened to them. And now Buffy was missing, had left for locations unknown. "No," she repeated.

"But why would she just leave?" Willow was beside herself with worry. Dawn noticed the quiver of the redhead's chin, a sure sign of distress. "We are here friends. And she was with Dawn and Giles. Why would she just go and leave everything behind?"

"We don't know that," Giles tried to be the voice of reason. "Maybe she just needed a few days of vacation."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Spike cried, shaking his head in annoyance. "Are you all bloody stupid? The Slayer was tethering on the edge for months. I don't blame Little Bit. She's had it rough and is barely a grown-up yet, but you," he turned to Giles, "should have known better. But it's so much easier to live in denial, isn't it?"

"I want to state that I don't care what Spike thinks," Xander began, standing up and walking to the window. He turned around and faced the people assembled, "But the guy has a point here. How could you not have seen what was going on with her?"

"I did!" Dawn cried, feeling her gut twist. God, she had been so stupid. The signs had been there. For months. And Spike had tried to tell her. "I knew she was unhappy. Ever since Spike turned up in the hospital in London, she's been different. Distant. I tried to talk to her about it, but she always changed the subject. But she seemed to be coping. All of you said that."

Why hadn't she seen how close Buffy had been to the edge? Why hadn't she listened to Spike? He'd tried to explain, had told her about the Shanshu prophecy, but Dawn had insisted that Buffy knew nothing about it. Also, weren't Angel and Buffy over for, like, years? There had been Riley, and then Spike himself, and Buffy had loved them both. Or so Dawn thought.

"Be that as it may," Giles said, "the question that still needs answered is, what are we going to do now?"

He had known she would come, had even expected it, but now that she stood before him, he realised that nothing could have prepared him for those empty eyes.

"Hello." Her voice was just as empty. "I'm-"

"Buffy," he cut her off, stepping aside so she could enter his room. "I know." He remembered people telling him about her spark, about the heat in her eyes, about her passion. He wondered if maybe all of them had lied to him.

She nodded, but he wasn't sure if it was a reaction to his wordless invitation or if she was encouraging herself that way. As she walked past him he caught a whiff of her perfume, a mixture of lemon and vanilla and all of a sudden some of his memories made sense.

"This is nice," she commented as she stood in his room. It was nothing special, just one of the many rooms at Notre Dame.

"Thanks." He felt strange. Lost in a weird kind of way. "Can I get you something?"

With a tiny shake of her head she refused, walking over to the window instead. Her golden hair looked like a halo against the darkness outside. He wasn't sure what he had expected when they'd finally meet. She wasn't tall, didn't even look particularly strong, but if he'd learned one thing it was that appearances could be deceiving.

Finally, after what seemed like hours but what were only mere seconds, she turned and looked at him. Her eyes were dark, the pupils dilated from staring out into the night. "You have his eyes," she whispered.

He had to smile. Somehow he'd known she would see it. "I know. But I have my mother's nose."

Something flickered through her eyes, but was gone too soon to decipher it. "I only met Darla once. Well, actually, twice or three times, but the one time we really met she tried to kill me."

Connor shrugged. "Yeah. And my dad killed her to save your life. Believe me, I've heard all the stories. Well, not heard-heard, but I've been having dreams like nobody would believe."

She nodded, her gaze solemn. "I read Wesley's diaries."

"But I thought-," he stopped, confused. He had had years trying to make sense of all the confusion in his life, but it was still all so mixed-up.

"Your father made a deal with Wolfram & Hart. They erased your memories and gave you a normal childhood. As a result all your friends forgot about you. Only, they forgot that Wesley kept diaries. He knew everything, he just never let it on."

Connor knew she was telling the truth. "I see," he said, forcing the words through a throat much too tight all of a sudden. "I was taught to hate him. All my life, well, the non-revised version, my so-called father told me that vampires were an abomination and that killing them was my mission." He had to blink. It was strange talking about it as if it were his life. It was not the life closest to him, not the one he actually remembered leading.

"I read about him. Holtz," Buffy told him, no emotion in her voice.

He could relate. Holtz was just a distant memory. A face in a dream. It was strange to imagine that the man had once been a father to him. Connor shook his head. Under different circumstances he'd laugh himself silly over the weirdness of it all.

"You're not what I imagined you would be," he said finally, hating himself for blushing furiously. God, he was such a loser sometimes. "I mean, you know, not in a bad way. But I dunno. He was so big and dark and you're-"

"Not?" she suggested, cutting him off. "Been there, done that. On of the first sentences your father ever said was that he thought I'd be taller." A strange smile played around her lips. She looked almost eerie, and a little creepy if Connor was honest with himself. There was a certain air around her, something he couldn't put his finger on. God, his life was fucking weird.

"He wouldn't let me fight with him," he told her, wondering if maybe the next minutes he would wake up from this surreal conversation. "I wanted to be with him and he sent me away."

"He left me because he thought I deserved a normal life." She snorted and shook herself and ran a hand through her hair. "I'm sorry. You must think I'm crazy."

The thought had crossed his mind, but he shook his head in the negative. "Not at all. But I have to admit it's a little weird, talking to you. I remember another Slayer. Faith."

"She lives in Cleveland now."

Connor felt his brows go up. "Cleveland?"

"Another hellmouth. Not as big as the one we had in Sunnydale, but still." She laughed harshly, "There's always another hellmouth. And evil all around us. Even now with more than 200 Slayers, it never seems to stop."

They stared at each other for a moment, then Connor sighed. "Look, I don't have a problem with all this, but I'd really like to know why you came. I mean, if I were you I'd be probably curious but I have a feeling its not just curiosity that brought you here."

"No," she shook her head, her eyes serious. "I came because I want to find your father."

"Iowa farm boy?" Spike snorted loudly at the stupidity of his dinner companions. "Are you completely off your bonkers now?"

"Well, it's a chance," Willow said defensively.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures," Giles said but there was a frown on his forehead. The watcher might live in denial a lot these days but he didn't like the idea of calling in Buffy's ex either.

"Okay," Xander spoke up, giving Spike a certain look. "Don't you think you're overreacting a little bit here? I mean, she's gone, sure, but it's not as if she's missing for days. Buffy just left."

"You didn't see her, Xander." Dawn was close to tears. She had grown up a lot but sometimes she was still quick to panic. "I'm just scared. Not in a Buffy-might-do-something-stupid scared, but still in a Buffy-just-disappeared-without-saying-goodbye manner."

"Dawnie is right. It's not like Buffy to just disappear," Willow said, then paused on a frown. "Except, she did disappear once. But that was different."

Ah. Now they were getting somewhere here. "Different, how?" Spike asked.

"Well, for one," the redhead replied, "it was all about Angel." She paused, paling. "Oh my God. This is so typical for her!"

"What do you mean?" Dawn looked from one friend to the other, finally stopping on Spike. "Tell me what she means!"

He didn't want to tell her. She was his only friend and he didn't want to hurt her, but it seemed that there was no way around it. "What the witch is telling you is that Angel and Buffy going AWOL fit."

"But … it's been two years!" Dawn exclaimed. "Sure, she found out about the diaries, and you, and … But she was coping! I mean ,she was. She was dating like there was no tomorrow and …" Dawn faltered, sinking on a near by chair. "She wasn't coping, huh?"

"Don't think so, Nibblet."

"Yes, I think we have to accept the fact that Buffy wasn't coping at all." Giles sighed sadly. "And that we weren't the most considerate friends either."

Spike barely restrained himself from snorting aloud. "So what else is new? I remember a time when she tried to save you all, and you threw her out of the house."

"Yes, Spike, thank you so much for reminding us of our failures," Giles snapped bitingly and gave the former vampire a burning glare. "But I think some of us are sitting in the glasshouse so throwing stones might not be the best of actions. Besides none of this will bring us closer to a solution for our problem."

"Maybe we should stop for a moment," Xander said, looking thoughtful. "I mean, maybe we were approaching this from the wrong direction."

Willow perked up. "Wrong direction?"

"Yeah," her childhood friend replied. "We are trying to understand why she left, and that's all great. But maybe we should be asking ourselves where she went."

"My father?" Connor stared at the blond Slayer in disbelief. "But my father is dead. Well, my biological father anyway." He rubbed his head, "This is beyond confusing."

She snorted in a very unladylike manner. "Tell me about it."

Connor felt himself getting angry, "Look, I don't know what kind of game it is you're playing here. But Angel is dead." He didn't want to say it, she was a Slayer after all which meant she could hurt him – badly – if she really wanted, but silently Connor was starting to wonder if maybe she'd lost her mind somewhere on the way.

"Is he?" she asked, but it wasn't directed at him. She was strangely distant, as if she weren't even in the same room with him.

"What are you saying? Do you know something I don't?" He didn't want to hope. Connor wasn't even sure it was hope, he was feeling. Angel may be his biological father, but he barely knew the guy. And yeah, he'd dreamt a lot of stuff, even felt what Angel had been feeling in those vivid dreams, and yeah, that had brought him closer to the vampire but Angel had never been the father he'd grown up with. Neither in his dreams nor in this altered reality.

"I don't know anything." Buffy shook her head as if to clear her mind. "But I have this feeling, this … I can't shake it off. As something just isn't right. As if there is something missing."

Well, something was missing, namely his father, but that's what happened when people died. Or non-people. "I don't see how I'm supposed to help you. I know nothing. Probably less than you do."

"You were with him before he disappeared," she insisted.

"But only for a moment. I helped him kill some evil, strong guy. But then he sent me away. Told me I had to live, that as long as I lived he'd never truly die." Connor still remembered his father's last words, and the love he had seen in those eyes so like his own. Unlike his other self in the dreams, he was sure his biological father had loved him.

"Can you tell me exactly what he said?" Buffy demanded, her eyes filled with life for the first time since she'd come.

Connor shrugged. "Sure. But why?"

She smiled. Not a happy kind of smile, more like a predator sensing a pray, which given her occupation was probably a good description. "Because I have a feeling there is more to those words than we all thought."

to be continued …


	4. Chapter 4

Open Season (4/10ish) 

by Jill

Disclaimer and details see part 1

"We're getting nowhere here."

Willow frowned and rubbed her aching forehead, then, closing her eyes, she let her mind wander, let it drift in the certain way she'd learned at the Convent once upon a time. Or so it seemed. It was only three years, but it seemed like a lifetime.

"Yes, it's rather tiring," Giles agreed, closing a phonebook of London. Willow wondered where he had gotten hold of it. Or was it part of his vast collection? English people could be weird sometimes.

"Honey, you look beat."

Willow saw Kennedy's concerned frown and for the umpteenth time caught herself wishing it was Tara looking at her instead. She hated herself for her wish but it was there nevertheless. And it refused to go away. It surfaced time and again, at moments Willow had no right thinking of her late lover. It was wrong. And she was a bad person. But there was nothing she could do. Buffy had once accused her of settling with Kennedy, of having given up on true love. As much as she hated admitting it, Willow knew Buffy was right. She was settling. And she hated that, too.

Still, she did her best to assure her lover. "I'm fine, sweetie. Just annoyed. How can Buffy just disappear? Just like that?"

"Well, if she were still the only Slayer, we could probably trace her, but with all those Slayers everywhere, her aura isn't unique anymore." That from Andrew who called himself a watcher in training these days. Willow wished the stupid boy would simply go away and never come back. She knew that part of her feelings towards the young man were connected to her darkest days. Every time she looked at Andrew she remembered. The way her victim screamed. The fear in his eyes. And the worst. The thrill she'd felt at inflicting all these things. She even remembered how fear smelled.

Giles stood and walked over to another thick book, opened the cover then closed it again, sighing. "I can't believe you actually did call Riley. I can not see how he is supposed to help in finding Buffy."

"Well, he is a soldier, right?" Willow wasn't all that sure on her way of action, but it was better than sitting around doing nothing. Besides, "They told me has was out on a mission." She barely kept herself from rolling her eyes. That just sounded too G.I. Joe even to her. "So it's not like I could talk to him, anyway."

"Well, they will give him your message as soon as he's back."

Willow glanced at Xander who was sitting in the corner, looking tired and lonely. She felt her heart constrict at the sight, and for a fleeting moment caught herself wondering if maybe they had missed a chance you only had once in a lifetime, then dismissed it. Holding yourself up with maybes never did anything good.

She rubbed her aching forehead again. The pain was getting worse, like an army of little guys hammering underneath her skull – everywhere. "I guess," she said. "But Giles is right. I'm not really sure he can help."

"Hallelujah."

Willow gave Spike an irritated frown. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," he replied, in a voice most annoying, and without a doubt chosen for that purpose, "that the guy is a loser. I mean, he had her. And he left her. That cries loser for me."

"Yes, thank you Spike for your comment, but pray tell us how that will bring Buffy back to us."

Willow gave Giles a grateful smile, but Spike wasn't flustered. "You people have been her friends for way longer than-" He stopped, frowned, then shook his head. "Whatever. You've been with her for a quite some time. But you still don't know her. Not," he put his right hand over his now beating heart, "where it counts."

"That's not true, Spike, and you know it." Dawn's voice sounded tear strained. She hadn't spoken for a while, had just been standing at the window, staring out into the night.

"I know no such thing," the former vampire replied. "I can still remember a time when you threw her out of her own home because you couldn't see that she was right. You people are the most ungrateful lot I've ever met. That coming from me is saying something, believe me."

"Yes, I figure it does," Giles said drily, his voice full of innuendo. "However, hearing that from you has a foul taste to it. You did your best to kill her."

"Hello! Vampire here. I mean, former, but you know, killing the Slayer was a pastime for me. I was evil. Evil means, killing for sports is part of the job description. What's your excuse?"

"We never-" Willow started but caught herself in mid-sentence. No, they had never tried to kill Buffy, but they hadn't been all that great friends either. True, Buffy sometimes didn't make it easy to be her friend. That still was no excuse for not realising in how bad a shape she had been lately.

"You know," Xander said on a heavy sigh, "and it really pains me to say it, but the ex-vamp has a point there. We all thought, hey, now that she's not the only Slayer anymore, life would be nice and easy." He sighed again and stood.

"But it wasn't." Giles nodded gravely, "Yes, we figured as much."

Xander shook his head before his remaining eye met Willow's. She remembered a time when his gaze had been full of mischief, and a time when they were shining with love. Now only one eye was left, the patch over the other one bearing witness of what he'd been through fighting next to the Slayer.

She smiled at him, but he didn't smile back. "I think that's not what Xander meant, exactly."

"No, it's not," her childhood friend agreed. "What I meant was that she hasn't been happy Buffy for a very long time. We just didn't want to deal with depressed Buffy, or needy Buffy. We really are a sorry bunch of losers."

"Finally someone's got it," Spike's voice was full of glee. "With friends like you, she doesn't have to look for enemies."

Riley Finn was having a very bad day. In fact, he was really sure that the day should go in the shitty, better-rewind, never-remember category. But, alas, because he was just a human being, not some supernatural super-hero like some people he happened to know, there was no escaping the day of clusterfucks.

It had started out okay. He had woken up next to Sam, her soft skin warm and familiar, her scent soothing in a way Buffy's never had been. But things had gotten downhill from there.

A second later alarm had sounded through the camp, interrupting their morning snuggle session, followed by Colonel Garish bellowing them into the ground for something they were not responsible for. But – as it turned out – the President had contacted the Colonel and he had not been happy. Something about a hostile development in the middle eastern desert, and now they all had to live with the outpour.

Receiving their orders an hour later, he and Sam and their group had spent the day wading through water and by six p.m. they were all soaked through, tired and cranky.

"This sucks."

Yes, that completely summed it up.

"Thanks for the encouraging comment, Miller." Riley knew he sounded sourly but he couldn't help himself. Nor did he want to.

Graham simply shrugged, not overly impressed with his squad leader's response, just the way Riley had expected. Graham knew him too long, too well. He was almost like a brother, and just like a brother, he knew how to take Riley's moods.

"All I want is a hot bath and a warm, comfy bed."

"Nice dream, Finn." Riley glanced at his wife who grinned at him in return. No hot bath here in the wilderness. No comfy bed either. But at least they had each other. And a baby. Geez. He had to get used to that thought.

"Yeah, isn't it?" Sam never lost her good humor, had in fact managed to pull him through some of his more darker days. "Uh-oh."

Riley raised a brow at her, and at her nod, he turned only to find Colonel Garish waiting for them. Now what? No way his pregnant wife was spending another night in the open. They had all done their job, they deserved a break. But soldier training took over in an instant, and Riley felt himself stiffen and salute. "Sir."

"Finn. At ease." The Colonel let his eyes sweep over the sorry looking group and Riley saw his lips twitch. "Finn. Both of you. Come with me. The rest – go eat."

They obeyed instantly, while Riley and Sam trotted after their commander. "Sir?" he asked.

"You had a phone call while you were out," the Colonel informed them. He was a tall man, more than six feet, and still not as tall as Riley. And he was some sort of legend, had fought in the desert, and been trained a SEAL when he was young.

"A phone call, sir?" Who the hell would call him? Nobody even knew he was here? Although – His thoughts came to a screeching halt and his gaze found Sam's. She was looking at him steadily.

"Yes. A Mr. Giles called from Rome, Italy. Seemed urgent." The Colonel stopped, turned, and stared at the couple. "Anything I should know, Finn? I thought all your family is from Iowa."

"They are," Riley assured his commander quickly. "Mr. Giles is someone I worked with for a while." He paused for a moment, then added, "In Sunnydale."

Garish's gaze turned thoughtful. "Sunnydale you say. Wasn't that wiped out by an earthquake a few years back?"

"Yes, Sir. At least that's the official version," Riley replied, keeping his face neutral. Beside him, Sam coughed slightly.

Garish nodded, he wasn't a stupid man. "I see. Are you going to tell me what really happened?"

Riley sighed. "I'm not quite sure. You are aware of the fact that Sunnydale was built on a hellmouth?"

"Yes, yes," Garish waved dismissively. "Don't bore me with details, Finn."

"Of course not, Sir." Riley exchanged a glance with his wife, not sure how much information he should offer. Sometimes, so he had learned working for Professor Walsh, not telling was the wiser move. "From the sparse information I could achieve, it seems that the hellmouth collapsed. The Slayer was involved."

"The Slayer, you say." Garish rubbed his chin. "And this Mr. Giles?"

"He is, was, her Watcher."

"I see. Well," Garish got up, "what are you waiting for? Contact the man. Dismissed."

"So this is the alley?"

Connor nodded, his feeling of unease increasing at the pacing the blond woman in front of him didn't seem able to cease. "Yeah. At least I think it is."

He looked around, wondering what brought him into this God-forsaken alley in the middle of the night.

"You don't know for sure?" Her voice was like a whip, her gaze sharp.

"No." He shrugged, avoiding her eyes. "Look, I wasn't with him when he died. Spike could probably-"

"Spike isn't here," she snapped, and Connor wondered if she was tethering on the edge. Her face was drawn, dark bags beneath her eyes testifying to a lack of sleep over quite some time. And she didn't look like she ate much. All skin and bones. Yes, she was beautiful, in a starved, edgy sort of way, but for his taste she was way too intense.

But then, his biological father had been kind of intense, too. They probably fit really well.

"Damn."

The word was a hiss, and Connor looked back at the blonde. "I'm sorry. But he sent me away."

A smile ghosted over her lips. "Yeah. That's the kind of thing he'd do. He loved you very much, you know."

He knew that, but it was still nice to hear someone say it. "Yeah. I gathered as much. The sending me away from the final battle was a big hint."

Another smile. "He wanted to fight by my side." The smile vanished. "I sent him away. Gave the medallion to Spike." She sucked a sharp breath, and turned away from him quickly, so Connor was left staring at the back of her head.

"What now?" he wanted to know, wondering what on God's earth had made him agree with her crazy idea to go to L.A. and check out the spot where his father had died.

"I have to talk to people. Hit some clubs. You can come or not."

She started walking and Connor stared stupidly after her, before he followed quickly. "Ah – not to sound pissed her, or anything, but I haven't exactly got a place to stay. Remember, it was your idea to come here – without a plan, I may add." He sounded a little pissed, but he didn't care. He felt as if he'd landed in the middle of some wacky nightmare. And all thanks to the slightly crazy blonde girl, he had problems to follow.

Or did bump into, as she suddenly stopped and turned to look at him. "Look, I didn't force you to come. I told you what I wanted to do, you agreed."

Connor stared at her, sure now that she'd lost all her marbles. "That was before I saw what kind of crazy not-plan this is," he gritted out.

"You can go home any time," she shot back.

"Uh-huh. Sure. Just like that. There are not flights tonight."

"Then get a room and fly back tomorrow. I thought you could help, but I was obviously wrong. You're nothing but a burden to me." There was no mercy in her eyes, no understanding. She just didn't care. Connor wondered if she'd always been so single-minded.

"Excuse me? A burden? Oh, thanks so much for your vote of confidence." He rolled his eyes, "Remember, son of two vampires. Super-powers here. I could actually help."

"I don't need your help in that department. Remember," she mimicked his voice, "super-powers here." After a moment, her shoulders slumped and she turned away, began walking again. "You can come with me or not. It's up to you."

Connor looked at her back for a moment, then followed her into the night, experiencing an odd feeling of déjà-vu. He didn't know why, but he couldn't shake off the idea of his father walking a similar path once.

to be continued …


	5. Chapter 5

Open Season (5/10ish) 

by Jill

Disclaimer and details see part 1

Author's Note: I have NO idea what happens to my formatting each time I upload a chapter of this story. Seems it's shot to hell. I will try to do it differently this time and hope it'll work, but just in case – I want to apologize in advance because there is no space between paragraphs. I'm sorry. It's really not my fault.

Author's Note 2: I want to thank all of you who sent feedback for this story so far. WhiteWolf, thanks for reading the story, Tommy14, thanks so much for your praise, lunerbrittania, the space between scenes is one of the things uploading seems to swallow up. Sorry! I have them in my original. txgrlf, mo and Ayleen, thanks.

And to my readers on the Babbleboard, namely Sara-Lee, Kim, cherylforba, Marie, Alley, and to those on the lists. You know who you are! Thanks so much for staying with me even though I update so irregularly, but I can't help it. I have to go where the muse takes me.

Chapter 5

Giles wasn't sure what to feel when he found himself face to face with Riley Finn. To tell the truth, his feelings towards the young man had always been … well, a little cock-eyed, if he wanted to be completely honest with himself. At first he hadn't been all that pleased to see Buffy spend time with him. Granted, the fact that Riley was actually breathing and had a heartbeat was a plus compared to her former boyfriend, and also the teensy little detail that whatever happened between them there would be no soul lost and no people slaughtered as a result.

Yet, Buffy had seemed oddly distracted. And that was a definite minus in Giles' book. Unlike Riley, Angel with all his baggage had kept the Slayer focussed on her work, had supported her when he was in possession of his soul and even managed to discover important information. Not to say that he had helped to save this world now and then.

It wasn't Riley's fault that Adam had used him, of course. Neither was the fact that Maggie Walsh had used him and his comrades as lab rats without their knowledge. Riley had helped Buffy, had been a good addition to the team – at least for a while – and had been a partner for Buffy, had managed to give her the normal relationship she so desperately craved.

Giles never doubted that Riley loved his Slayer.

And yet – Giles couldn't help to wonder if bringing Riley into the mix had been the wisest decision.

"Hello Giles." He still sounded like the Riley Giles remembered. He looked different, though. The others had told him that there was a scar on Riley's face now, and that his hair was shorter. But other things, not as easily notable Giles saw too. Eyes that were far more serious, held secrets that hadn't been there before. And a woman who wore his ring, seemed steadfast and friendly, and extended her hand with a smile.

"Hello, I'm Sam. Riley's wife."

Giles stepped back but didn't invite them in. There weren't a lot of vampires in Rome these days, but old habits never died. "You're early. We expected you tomorrow morning at the earliest."

"We managed to catch a red-eye from Rio to Madrid," Sam explained. Giles was impressed with her easy demeanour, the way she seemed confident in her own skin. There was a lot that reminded of Buffy, and a world between them.

"After your phone-call, we thought that coming rather earlier than later was necessary." Riley turned and looked at Giles, "I'm worried. This isn't like Buffy. Not," he paused, and rubbed his forehead, "that I really know her these days but … Something must be wrong."

"That's what we all think." Willow stood in the open doorway towards the living room, an inscrutable expression on her face. It had been her idea to call Riley and yet Giles had the feeling that she wasn't all that happy with his presence. It was rather odd, and Giles made a mental note to pursue that subject later.

"Willow, hey." Sam smiled at the witch and the two women shook hands. "Great to see you again."

"Yeah," Willow agreed, more comfortable with Riley's wife than with him. "It is. I just wish circumstances were different."

"Don't we all." Giles felt strangely left out and stepped back to allow Riley and his wife entrance to his apartment. They stepped inside, and Riley nodded at Willow. They did not shake hands.

"Where is everyone?" Riley asked, looking around. "From what you told me I assumed they were all here, joining forces so to speak." He grinned a little at his own joke, but nobody joined in. Riley coughed, suddenly embarrassed. "Uh – where is Dawn?"

"At school," Giles stated matter of factly. "She wanted to stay but Buffy wouldn't want her to ignore her education. Xander and Kennedy went to do a little research at the national library. So Willow and I and-"

"Look who's here. Iowa corn-bred boy."

"- Spike are the only one's left for now," Giles ended on a sigh. He sent the former vampire a nasty glance before turning away. "I think tea is in order now."

"Yeah, tea. Cure for all ails in the world," Spike joked, never taking his eyes off Riley Finn, who stared openly at the man in the wheel-chair. "Yeah, it's me. Looky, looky, farm-boy. It's Spike, in the new, beating heart, but not so improved version."

"You're human?" Riley gasped in shock, turning his gaze to Willow. "He's human?"

"He is still in the room," Spike snapped, hating his wheel-chair more than ever. "And now, be a good boy and close your mouth." Looking over his shoulder, he yelled, "You really expect that loser to find our missing Slayer?"

"Shut up," Giles said mildly when he returned to the group. "Yes, Riley. Spike returned human, with paralysed legs though. Hence the wheel chair."

"What do you mean – came back?"

"Just for the record, I came back before. It was a bloody nuisance being a ghost, but this," Spike touched the wheels of his chair, "is fucking bloody unfair."

Keeping his voice in the same mild manner, Giles didn't spare the former vampire a glance. His eyes on Riley he said, "That is certainly open for discussion. As for the come back," he sighed, feeling more uncertain than ever about Riley's presence. "Spike returned from only the Powers know where. First as a ghost who then gained corporeal existence, and the second time as a human."

"Talk about strange things." Riley rubbed his forehead in distress, while Sam gave the former vampire a shrewd look. "Alright. I accept that, but never," his voice turned wry, "tell any of my superiors."

"Believe me, we wouldn't think about it." Willow gave Riley a grin. "It not as if anyone would ever believe anything that's happened to us."

"Yeah, and we won't even mention bad-ass Willow in leather."

"Xander, where did you come from?" Giles gave the young man a stern look.

In response Xander held up a key. "Remember? Hey Riley. Sam."

"Hey Xander," the couple said unison.

There was no hand-shaking – and again Giles made a mental note to pursue the subject later. It seemed a lot more hand changed with Riley than anyone had told him. Interesting.

Giles cleared his throat rather loudly. "Riley," he looked at the young man and blue eyes turned his way. "We need information to help Buffy. And according to Willow you have access codes we can only dream of."

Riley blinked, exchanged a glance with his wife, then pulled something out of his jacket. On closer inspection it turned out to be a compact disc. "There you go," he held the disc out to Willow, "knock yourself out."

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

It was a sleazy bar, even worse than Willie's had ever been, and only one customer raised his head to look who had entered in the middle of the night. The guy behind the bar wore a dirty shirt and an even more dirty towel hung over his left shoulder. His face wasn't quite human but not quite demonic either.

Buffy only glanced at him, then let her eyes do a short sweep of the room. At one table three demons were playing a quite game of poker, and apart from the Kevlar at the bar, she couldn't see anyone else frequenting the dump.

She heard footsteps behind her and sensed Connor standing close. It was a weird feeling. She ignored the painful clenching of her stomach and walked towards the bar.

The Kevlar looked at her again, and his eyes widened ever so slightly.

"Hey little one. It's a little late for good kids to be out – especially in this part of town," the bartender told her with a leer.

Buffy kept her voice even, "I need information. I was told this was the place to get it."

"That your boy toy?" he asked, indicating Connor who was still standing close by.

"It's none of your business. I'm inquiring about a vampire."

The bartender's non existent brows went up, "A vampire? Girl, I gotta tell ya. All those mushy novels aren't the truth. Vampires aren't a cuddly bunch. They kill – for real."

Buffy sighed, annoyed with the guy's attitude. But she had come for information, and unlike Willie this guy probably wouldn't appreciate to get beaten up. "Look, I didn't come to make trouble. Angel. What do you know about him?"

"Angel?" The barkeeper tilted his head ever so slightly. "How would you know Angel?"

"Hollis, are you stupid or what?" the Kevlar said finally, sounding annoyed. "This isn't a little girl. She's a Slayer. Can't you feel it?"

Hollis shrugged, "Not a thing."

The Kevlar made a disgusted sound. "That comes from diluting good demon blood with humans." He shook his head, then looked at Buffy. "What do you want to know, Slayer?"

It had been a while since someone had called her that. "What you can tell me."

The Kevlar nodded at Connor. "Who's he?"

"Someone who can kick your ass," Connor replied, inching closer.

"Down boy." Buffy held up a hand. "He's with me. So, what about Angel?"

"There's been a rumor he got himself killed for good this time," the Kevlar said. "I'm not into prophesies and that kind of shit but this chick I once, you know," he made an upward motion with his groin and Buffy nodded. "Well, anyway, she was working for them lawyers, Wolfram & Hart, she was a vampire. And one night she told me all about some hot shot prophecy about the vampire with the soul."

"What about him?" Connor was standing next to Buffy and the Slayer held out a hand to hold him back.

"Connor. Let the guy talk."

Connor spit out in disgust.

"Hey, I have to clean that later," Hollis complained and Buffy shot him a dirty look.

"That floor hasn't been cleaned since the crucifixion. Now," she turned back to the Kevlar, "talk."

"It was all about some word in a foreign language. They weren't sure if it meant to be death or life."

"Shanshu," Buffy whispered to herself, wondering if maybe there would be a moment, a second in her life where she wouldn't be haunted by that word.

"That's it. Sounds stupid if you ask me."

"What else?" She knew she was sounding irritated but Buffy didn't care. She was long past caring. That day, that night something had died inside of her, and she hadn't been able to recover it. Giles was right, she was abusing herself but she simply couldn't help it. She knew Dawn was her responsibility, but it didn't matter. She knew her friends, hell all Slayers, counted on her. She couldn't bring herself to care. Not deep inside where it mattered. Nothing was inside of her, just a big, gaping hole that refused to be filled.

The Kevlar shrugged, his scaly shoulders whipping with the motion. "Nothing. That's it, really. The chick got too clingy if you understand what I mean." He turned his head and Buffy saw two tiny puncture wounds on his neck. "I send her packing."

"I thought vampires only drank from humans."

The demon grinned knowingly, giving Buffy's own neck a closer look. "They can only live on human blood, but sucking is kind of a second nature to them."

"You know," Connor had turned green, "that just sucks – no pun intended. This whole conversation is disgusting and I don't see how it brings you any closer to finding my … Angel, I mean."

"He was in here regularly." Hollis suddenly joined the little group. He sighed, "He used to beat up the customers a lot. Those were good times. Now," he sighed again, "it's downright boring. With the vampire population so low nothing's going on anymore."

"Buffy, I really think we should go."

"Shut up, Connor," she snapped. "I told you, if you don't want to help, just leave."

"Hey, aren't you Angel's kid?"

Another demon came over from the poker table, his eyes narrowed.

"Uh-" Connor stared at him. His skin was green and decidedly not human. His most prominent feature, apart from the loud suit were his red horns and eyes.

"Who are you?" Buffy demanding and stood straight, not sure if this newcomer was a threat.

"Wow," the demon looked at her in awe. "Are you Buffy?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Lorne," he said. "My name is Lorne."

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

"How are you today?" She was pretty, in a cool, contained kind of way.

"Tired. Why do you keep asking me how I am?"

She gazed at him solemnly, looking translucent. The way ghosts did. "Because I'm curious."

"You're sick."

"Yeah, that too."

"Why are you keeping me here?"

She laughed. It sounded distorted, not like the laugh he remembered. But he was used to it by now. "Because I can?"

"Do you have some kind of personality problem?"

"Now, that's not exactly news. Of course I'm crazy."

"I can't believe Wesley actually loved you."

She laughed again, but without humor this time. "He never loved me. He was always hung up on sweet Fred, may her soul rest in eternal damnation."

"You've got that one wrong. Eternal damnation, that's our spot."

She sighed. "True. Oh well, can't have everything."

"Lilah, don't you think this is getting old?"

"Nope. I'm feeling exceptionally well today."

"You don't look so good."

"I'm a ghost. Duh."

"Alright then. If it turns you on." He turned away as far as the shackles on his arms and legs would permit. "Enjoy yourself. It's not as if I'm getting any older."

to be continued …


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